S amantha is staring up at me with those wide, innocent eyes as recognition kicks in about who I am. I can see the confusion all over her—she has a shitty poker face .

That’s fine, though .

She makes up for it by being sexy as hell, curvy in all the right places, with her little attitude that she thinks hides just how overwhelmed she is by nearly everything around her .

Damn if she doesn’t make me feel a hundred different things at once. And damn if I don’t need to find out why .

Admittedly, part of me gets a kick out of how baffled she is. No doubt she’s wondering what happened to the man she saw last night .

He’s still in me, of course, but tucked deep, deep down now, not to be seen by anyone. Last night was my once-yearly escape. Today I’m back to my normal self. Back in control .

I couldn’t sleep much last night, thinking about Samantha. About her sassy mouth, those lips that I couldn’t help picturing stretching over my hard cock .

Hell, I even liked the way she turned me down, told me to fuck off. I can’t remember the last woman who did that—most fall all over themselves to get a crack at my money .

Not this one. The limo didn’t impress her one bit .

But given the definite spark of interest I’m seeing in her eyes as she looks at me, the way her breathing is uneven and her pupils are dilated, lips parted, she is interested in me. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it .

Which just confirms I’m making the right decision .

“I was thinking about it,” I say lightly. “I was wrong to have cost you your job last night .”

This makes her brow quirk. “Oh?” she says, seeming to have found her voice. “Well, that’s mighty big of you.” The sarcasm in her tone makes me want to laugh and put her in her place all at once—this girl has a fire in her belly. I like that .

But she isn’t just going to have everything her way. That’s now how I do business, and that’s not how I handle things in the bedroom, either .

“I’m going to make it up to you by giving you a new job,” I continue, pretending to ignore her comment .

That makes her shut up for a moment. Her mouth drops open as she stares at me, clearly astounded. “ Uh , what ?”

“I’m in need of a new assistant and I’d like to hire you for the position. I’m fairly certain the money will be a substantial improvement over your…previous gig.” I smirk. No doubt she was making shit wages, scraping by on tips and whatever she could scrounge up day to day .

Samantha’s eyes turn wary, skeptical. She’s clever. I’m sure she’s thinking this is some kind of scam. Why would a man in my position do something like this—what is my angle? She licks her lower lip, and I try not to get distracted by the tip of her tongue licking the plump lip. Fuck, this woman has no idea how sexy she is. That much is evident by how she behaves .

She’s not a natural flirt. She’s real, genuine. I’m so unused to women like this, I barely know what to think. But I’m a damn fine read of character, and I know she’s not faking this .

“How do you know I can do the job?” she finally asks, brow raised .

“If you can file and make copies, type forty words per minute, and be on time, I’m fairly certain you can do it,” I lob back. Something tells me she’ll be fine. She’s smart—that much is evident just from her gaze .

She shifts to her other foot, as she mulls over what I say. Then she looks at me, determination in her eyes, and I find myself intrigued even more by this woman. Very, very intrigued .

“I can type over sixty words per minute,” she says. “And I can also put together a statistical model for next years’ publishing releases if you need it .”

“Math major, huh?” I say. I have to admit, I’m impressed. I don’t yet ask the question I have—what the fuck is a girl like her doing working in a shitty bar anyway? Her talents are being squandered. She’ll do much better at my company, working under me .

At that thought, I have a momentary flash of her physically under me, thighs spread wide open, the scent of her soaked pussy filling the air. Jesus. This woman could be dangerous for me. I’m far too attracted to her .

Control , I chant to myself. I’m not going to lose it. No matter what else happens, I will stay in control of the situation …

Samantha answers the question I never asked, as if she can read my mind .

“I took a break from college and plan to apply to NYU once I save enough money .”

“Even better,” I reply. “Get in the limo. You can start working and saving for school immediately .”

I can tell she’s on the fence, despite feeling tempted. Her big brown eyes are studying me, trying to determine if I’m as honest as I appear to be. But I can’t sit here all day while she decides what to do. I need to nudge her into action .

“It’s an offer for a job, not marriage,” I say impatiently as I glance at my watch. “Now or never, Samantha. Make up your mind .”

That does it. She sucks in a breath. Nods. And gets into the car with me. We weave our way toward Strongwell Ink on Avenue of the Americas. The whole ride there, I warn myself to ignore the faint scent of her skin. I can’t touch her. I won’t .

I’m in control here, always have been…and I sure as fuck will not get involved with one of my employees .

* * *

O nce we get to the office, I put Samantha in the care of the head of HR to fill out the appropriate paperwork and get her started. And it couldn’t come soon enough, because I need air .

Space from her .

I can’t help but wonder, what the fuck was I thinking, offering this woman a job? Damn guilty conscience. Being enclosed in the back of the limo was bad enough. Hearing Samantha’s soft breaths, watching her shift on the seat, those long and curvy legs crossing and uncrossing…my fingers itched to clamp down on a thigh and force her to sit still, if only to make her stop distracting me. But if I touched her, I was going to be lost .

I head into my office and call in Kim, my temporary fill-in, whom I pulled from her department to assist me until I replaced my former assistant, Bethany. Briefly, I explain to Kim that I need her to train Samantha and get her up to speed ASAP .

“You got it, Mr. Strongwell,” Kim says with a polite smile. She never quite warmed to me, though she’s done fine at the job. Kim’s a grandmother who feels motherly toward the admin in our company. I’m guessing she heard about Bethany’s unfortunate…attraction toward me, which prompted her to dramatically quit after I rejected her advances .

I never led the woman on. Never even touched her. I don’t shit where I eat. Business is business, and pleasure is pleasure .

Once Kim leaves, I turn my attention to answering emails and returning calls. I dig into my desk for two Advil—last night’s drinking binge left me with a bit of a hangover. I type out notes in an email draft on what meetings I need lined up for Kim and Samantha to set up for me .

There’s a soft rap on my door .

“Come in,” I say without looking up. My fingers are flying across the keyboard, and I try not to lose my train of thought .

“Bentley—um, Mr. Strongwell.” Samantha steps into my office. “I…finished with HR and I wanted to know what you’d like me to do next .”

The sound of her husky voice makes my cock grow hard. What would I like her to do? I think about those small hands stroking me under my desk. Her on her knees, peering up at me, asking me what I’d like her to do next .

Fuck .

“Go find Kim,” I manage to say. “She’s at the nearby desk. She’ll tell you. I’m drafting an email now of tasks for you two to finish.” I can’t fucking look up at her, because if I do, I’m going to move from behind this desk and grab her around the waist, feel those curvy tits against me, her warm and supple body …

I’m hard as a rock and I need to get my head clear of this nonsense. She’s just a woman, and I’ve had plenty—there are lots of fish in the sea, no reason to fixate on one of the few ladies I can’t allow myself access to .

I just need a few more moments to get myself together. To will this attraction away. This woman is my employee. That’s all .

When I feel like my libido is firmly under control, I give her a steady look. Her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is spilling down her shoulders to curl on the tops of her breasts. Her shirt is thin enough for me to see the lace of her bra. She’s holding a folder by her side, probably paperwork from HR .

Get your shit together, I warn myself. I’m not gonna look at her tits. I refuse to. “Just a few more things to be aware of,” I tell her. “You take your lunch break when I do, and you stay as long as I do in case I need you here. You’ll be well compensated for your hard work. And you’ll be taking Kim’s desk—she was just substituting until I found a permanent replacement for my former assistant .”

“What happened to her?” Samantha asks. I can see the question in her eyes. She’s wondering if I’m a nightmare to work for or if it’s something else .

“She quit,” I say bluntly and leave it at that. I’m sure as hell not getting into details about the dramatic scene that led to Bethany leaving. I’d like to pretend it never happened, actually. That was a complication I didn’t need .

Samantha’s face smooths, and she gives a curt nod, seeming to shift into work mode. Good. She leaves, and the door clicks closed behind her .

With her presence gone, the room feels different. I push her out of my mind and get back to my email .

A half hour later, my cell rings. It’s my cousin, Steve .

“Steve,” I say as a greeting, swirling in my office chair away from my computer. “ What’s up ?”

“Saw your mom this morning when she came into my store. She wants to know if you’re coming to dinner tonight,” he says in his usual jovial tone. Nothing rattles Steve. Two men could not be more opposite than he and I. Whereas I’m tense, a control freak, unable to get close to people, Steve is relaxed, goes with the flow. Everyone loves my cousin. He manages a jewelry store that’s been in the Strongwell family for a couple of generations now .

Of course, he’s coming from a different place than I am. I was adopted when I was nine. The family loves me like one of their own, and I’ll never forget that .

That’s why when any of them call me, I step away from work. I can’t emotionally connect with them the way they want me to, because I’m so fucked up, but I can give them my attention. That’s the least they deserve .

“I’ll be there,” I tell him .

“You know she’s going to ask…” he starts .

I roll my eyes. “No, I’m not bringing anyone with me.” Mom does family dinners twice a month and includes Steve’s father, my “uncle .”

I may not hang around and shoot the shit after we eat, but I do the best I can to go to the family meals .

“I didn’t assume so,” he says with a chuckle. “See you later , cuz .”

We hang up. I go back to my work and spend the rest of the morning as usual. The hours fly by. Samantha doesn’t come back in my office, probably because Kim is training her. I’m glad, I tell myself. The less I see her now, the more detached I can be when I’m around her later. I can’t let this attraction get the better of me .

But then again, who am I kidding ?

I didn’t follow this girl home last night for no reason. And I didn’t offer her a job simply to let my guilty conscience off the hook .

Samantha’s gotten under my skin. Like an itch that needs to be scratched, one way or another …

I break for lunch, eating at my desk as I work. Attend my usual meetings for the day. Discuss strategies with the heads of marketing and PR for a couple of large book launches we’re doing later this year .

In the afternoon, I call Kim in, who’s trailed by Samantha. They sit down at the chairs across from my massive desk. We go over my schedule for the rest of the week, and I outline a few tasks I need them to handle .

Samantha keeps her head down, taking notes. Her glossy hair is over one shoulder, tucked behind her ear. It’s not quite blond, not quite brown, but it looks tempting, soft. I want to run my fingers through it. Wrap the end around my fist. Tug her head back and expose her throat —

Fuck .

I feel my dick swelling and shift in my seat. I’m not going to get swept up in this lust that hits me whenever I’m around her. I don’t even know why the fuck I’m that attracted to her .

Liar .

Her lips are made to be sucked on. Her breasts are full, inviting. Her skin is soft, pale. I want to see marks where my fingers dig into her womanly hips. I want my teeth etched on her soft, supple flesh. I want to claim her as mine .

Brand her as my damn property and make sure no other man touches her but me .

Fuck. I haven’t felt the compulsion to be dirty in a long time. I thought that was all behind me now. But something about her makes me want to let go and give in. Explore that darkness lurking deep in me .

I dismiss Samantha and Kim and ask them to leave me alone the rest of the day. I can’t face seeing her again, not when I’m feeling so edgy. When’s the last time I fucked a woman? It’s been a while. I’m too focused on work. It’s hard to find anyone I’m interested in taking on a date, much less to bed .

So I burn up the hours, diving headfirst into work. Doesn’t matter if Samantha is bringing out the sexually dominant, deviant side of me. I’m not releasing it. Fuck that .

* * *

“P ass the dinner rolls?” Steve asks me as he holds out a hand .

I reach in front of me and hand him the bowl .

“Dinner is great, Aunt Penny,” Steve says as he bites a hunk out of the roll. “You really outdid yourself on the lasagna .”

My mom beams at him. “Thanks.” She turns to me. “So how have you been, Bentley? Haven’t heard much from you.” I can see that she’s trying to sound light, not confrontational. Mom doesn’t put pressure on me to be more open, though I suspect she wants to .

My adoptive parents couldn’t have kids. When they saw me in the home, they took a chance on an emotionally scarred, silent boy and brought him with them. Gave me their last name. They tried their best to help me open up. But though I eventually began to talk again, began to function like normal people did, I was shattered on the inside .

None of us ever talks about why .

“I’ve just been busy running the company,” I tell her as I take another bite of lasagna .

“It’s not easy being the owner of a huge publishing house,” my father says with a proud nod .

My aunt and uncle, Steve’s parents, chatter among themselves about the NY Giants and how their season is going. They’re rabid fans. I don’t really care too much about it, but one time I showed mild interest and went to a game with them. From then on, every Christmas they bought me NY Giants merchandise .

The conversation turns to discussing my adoptive parents’ neighbors, who are getting a divorce, and how their biggest fight is over who gets custody of the dog. Dad rolls his eyes when Mom reveals they’re actually creating a custody agreement but are stuck on who gets which holidays .

“They can’t bother to hire someone to mow their damn lawn, but somehow they can pay two attorneys to fight it out over their mutt,” he mumbles .

Steve shrugs. “Some people view their pets as their kids .”

“I knew a woman who took her cat everywhere she went,” Uncle Mark chimes in. “She brought it into our store one day, and it got out and knocked over our display of Tag Heuer watches .”

With a laugh, Steve says, “That was a bitch to clean up.” He glances at my mom. “Sorry .”

Mom doesn’t care for cussing in her house. But she loves Cousin Steve, so she gives him a mock warning look. “You’re not too old to be grounded, you know,” she teases .

I watch my family chatter and chuckle about memories involving pets that passed on a long time ago. But I feel like an outsider. Not a part of them. I sit there in my expensive business suit, eating at their table, and I know I can never feel what they do. Connection with others .

When I was a kid, I wouldn’t even try to get along with people. I just remained silent and closed off. But I eventually learned that to get anywhere in the world, you have to fake it. So I worked on my façade. Developed a persona .

I’m known for being ruthless, aggressive about my work .

I’m okay with that. When I need to fuck, I find a woman to fuck. That’s about all the connection I’ve ever wanted. And even that’s just physical, a release and nothing more .

But that makes me think of Samantha, and why she somehow conjures emotion in me, a part of me I always assumed was dead .

That makes her even more dangerous, definitely to be avoided at all costs .

Dinner is finally over, and I make my polite exit. On my way home, I sit in the back of the limo and wonder what Samantha is up to tonight. Then I tell myself it doesn’t matter, and I lean back and close my eyes. I’ve already put things into place to ensure our relationship remains professional. Me in charge, her following my orders .

It isn’t the domination I’m craving to release, but it’s the only power I can exercise right now. And wrong or right, I have to do it .